


A Place to Belong

by hummingbirdswords



Series: home is the place you miss when you're gone [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Light Angst, Post-Dark Swan Arc, Romantic Friendship, technically post their return from the underworld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6353410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingbirdswords/pseuds/hummingbirdswords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days she thought about <em>what do you know about family?</em> and thought she still didn’t know all that much in the grand scheme of things but knew what mattered: she had one, and they were important to her.</p><p>A family, a home, love, and a place where she belonged were all things Emma Swan had wanted as a young child growing up in foster care and group homes. Now she has parents, a kid, and Regina constantly making her feel like maybe she’s wanted, not just loved, but wanted.</p><p>(starts out with an implied somewhat romantic friendship, ends with a romantic relationship)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place to Belong

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be something really short and quick, like 2k words, but then...I don't even know.

~~~~There were things people just didn’t understand about growing up in foster care and group homes unless they’d gone through it themselves. Most people got the gist of it – crap parents sometimes, kid just being a check to feed someone's habit, no stability – but Emma didn’t think anyone got what it was like for her growing up.

 

They didn’t know how many times she had shared a bed with practical strangers and had developed sleeping issues at a young age because she couldn’t sleep in a bed with the strange feeling of someone’s breath on her skin but got in trouble for sleeping on the floor to get away from what made her uncomfortable. It wasn’t until her teens that she learned to shut down completely so she could sleep. She wasn’t allowed comfort, and it did her no good trying to seek it.

 

They didn’t know that she had gotten in the habit of carrying all of her belongings with her whenever she left whatever “home” she was in out of fear of someone taking the few things that were all hers - or worse, never making it back because she was being placed somewhere new. She learned to not hold on to things – her bag had only been able to hold so much, after all.

 

They didn’t know how scared she was as a child but how she couldn’t show it, how being scared made her a target, made her weak, made her _prey_. Nobody knew that she’d been fighting monsters way before she knew anything about magical creatures.

 

It wasn’t like she wanted Mary Margaret to truly understand the thought process she went through one day when she walked into the apartment and found everything different, the home she had come to call hers no longer familiar to her. (Too many times she had walked into a house and knew where nothing was, everything was new and she just felt out of place.)

 

She didn’t want David to get why she hated doctors and check-ups and refused to get her arm looked at when she took a nasty fall while they were in the woods. (Too many doctors had checked her body for new marks or bruises when she was in foster care, had made her undress and poked and stared at her when all she wanted was to throw on her clothes and run.)

 

She didn’t want to explain why a rock collection meant so much to her, or why she had added a new one when she moved in with Mary Margaret during the curse and another when she moved out after Camelot. She stopped counting the number of rocks she collected after she reached fifty. But the bag was heavy and the rocks knocked against each other like a noisy reminder whenever she moved them. (When she was eleven she made a new record with nine rocks for one year. Family number nine that year had been nice. It was one of few Christmases she actually didn’t spend trying to pretend she didn’t know what day it was. There were gifts under the tree with her name on it instead of the generic ones passed around the homes with an age group and gender on them.)

 

She didn’t want anyone to understand that sometimes she was just waiting for someone to get rid of her because she no longer served a purpose – especially not when she logically _knew_ these people were her family and they loved her and this family was for keeps. But that was what growing up in foster care as an orphan had done to her.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Are you coming to dinner tonight?” Henry asked one day while helping her unload the groceries from her car. He was carrying about five bags in each hand, because second trips were for the weak, and Emma was following behind him and wishing he would stop growing so she could enjoy him being a kid for as long as possible. “Mom’s making shrimp scampi tonight, fresh pasta, and she was making caramel sauce before you picked me up.”

 

Emma’s stomach rumbled on cue as she put her grocery bags down on the kitchen counter. “And she didn’t send you with any? No fair. She knows that’s my favorite.”

 

Henry rolled his eyes, reminding Emma so much of Regina as he looked at her. “Everything mom makes is your favorite,” he pointed out meaningfully.

 

Emma shrugged, not able to disagree. It wasn’t her fault Regina’s best magic was done in the kitchen and required absolutely no actual magic at all. Regina was the one who had gotten her hooked on caramel sauce in the first place. After they returned from the Underworld and Emma still wasn’t feeling like herself and wanted time to just get used to all the changes and everything going on in her life, it was Regina who had started bringing her little things like apples from her tree with homemade caramel sauce for dipping and meals whose names she couldn’t pronounce sometimes but were orgasmic all the same. (Regina had rolled her eyes when Emma moaned and said her baked ziti was was almost as good as sex, but there had been an undeniable twinkle in those watching eyes and the faintest of blushes on her cheeks as Emma absolutely, unapologetically, devoured the dinner Regina had brought her.)

 

“Anyway, you coming?” Henry asked her again.

 

“Yeah, of course, kid. Don’t I come every Friday? It’s sorta what we do, yeah? The three of us, dinner, movie... Unless something’s changed that I don’t know about?” she wondered as she paused with putting up the can soups, worrying her lower lip as she looked over her shoulder.

 

“Nope.” Henry smiled at her and shook his head. “I was just checking. Mom said you’ve been pretty busy lately. She didn’t know if you were going to make it or not.”

 

Emma frowned. “Then why didn’t she just ask me?”

 

Henry shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. But I do know that she’s missed you,” he said, the last part a little quieter as he looked away from her.

 

It was true she had been busy lately, and perhaps she hadn’t seen much of Regina since last week. But surely the brunette had to have known she wasn’t too busy for her and Henry. Right?

 

Emma’s brow furrowed and she reached into her back pocket for her phone. She leaned against the counter and swiped against the screen and quickly put in her passcode. She gave a little smile like she normally did when she went to the home screen and saw the matching bright smiles of Regina and Henry from a few months back, neither of them aware of the photo being taken but perfect with their happiness spread across their cheeks. She’d spent so much time going to her photo albums to look at the picture that she decided one day to just make it her background, much to Regina’s surprise when she saw it one day and raised her eyebrow questioningly and only received a shrug in response.

 

 **_Emma:_ ** **Heard you were making caramel sauce... This means your favorite sheriff will be receiving a jar of it right???**

 

She didn’t have to wait long for a response, didn’t even get the chance to put her phone down and continue with the groceries Henry was putting up behind her.

 

 **_Regina:_ ** **That would imply I have a favorite sheriff and the desire to share.**

 

 **_Emma:_ ** **You do. Me.**

 

 **_Regina:_ ** **What makes you think that?**

 

 **_Emma:_ ** **I’m the only sheriff. Therefore I have to be your favorite :p That was an obvious one.**

 

 **_Regina:_ ** **Favorite by default. I find it hard to believe that you would accept that from me. Aren’t you the same woman who constantly calls me out for calling you Miss Swan when it’s your name and says we’ve been through too much for that? Would you really accept only being my favorite anything simply because you were the only choice?**

 

Emma glanced over at her phone and a small smirk formed on her lips. She tossed the cheese in her hand to Henry and then hopped up on the counter. “Remind me to never ask your mother for anything over text. I just wanted caramel sauce,” she said as she brought the phone to her ear while it started ringing. “Now I need to explain to her why I’m clearly her favorite, like, anything and she obviously wants to give me my own jar of it.”

 

Henry laughed and shook his head at her, putting the cheese away and then leaning on the counter with his arms crossing his chest. “ _I'm_ her favorite. In what universe is that not always true?”

 

“Well, excluding you. I’m top choice for everything when we don’t include you as an option because we already know she’d clearly pick you over anyone else.”

 

“Because I’m her little prince,” he said with a wide smile, even though he wasn’t all that little and he was a pain in the ass that she loved with all her heart and then some most of the time these days.

 

“How about you march your royal self upstairs and clean up your room? Your mom would kill me if she knew I let you leave the house with your room looking like it did the other day.”

 

“Fine,” he groaned, “and by the way, I’m pretty sure Mom picked up the phone already and heard everything you just said.”

 

Emma, who had forgotten she’d even brought the phone up to her ear and hadn’t heard Regina say a word, widened her eyes as she pulled the phone away to look at it and confirmed that Regina had indeed already answered. Henry snickered as he rushed off and Emma swore under her breath.

 

“Hey, Regina,” she said, stretching out the first word and making sure her smile was audible.

 

“Miss Swan,” Regina said in one of those low, warning tones of hers. It wasn’t all that annoyed, so Emma knew it wasn’t anything she really needed to worry about.

 

“Hey, no fair. No ‘Miss Swan’, especially after your last text message. You’re clearly aware of how much I hate it when you do that.”

 

“So you say,” she replied a little cryptically, like perhaps she didn’t fully believe Emma didn’t like it. (Which, okay, there were times when she did like it. Like when Regina’s voice was husky and it sent pleasure rolling down her spine.)

 

For a few moments there was just silence. Emma spent a lot of her time alone and really hated the silence more these days than she used to before Storybrooke, before family and friends and people _always_ being there, but she found silence when Regina was involved was more calming than it was suffocating. There were no requirements or pressures, even though she had called Regina without an explanation or reason or being prompted to. There was just Regina, who answered Emma’s calls and was all right with Emma just calling her just because.

 

Emma kicked her feet against the cabinet a few times, tracing the seam of her skinny jeans. She licked her lips and glanced toward the stairs she couldn’t see from her spot on the counter that led to the second level.

 

“What are you doing this weekend?”

 

“Pardon me?” Regina asked.

 

Emma shrugged her shoulders even though Regina couldn’t see her. “The kid and I were thinking about doing a movie marathon. We haven’t quite agreed on the whats or anything yet, but the choices are all looking pretty good right now.”

 

“That sounds–” Regina cleared her throat. “That should be fun. I haven’t any plans beyond a little work around the house. No more than laundry and straightening up.”

 

Emma waited a few quiet seconds before she licked her lips again. “Sounds like you could use a movie marathon this weekend, then, huh?” She hoped the laughter in her voice covered up the nervousness she was experiencing. “I know two people who would love to let you be a part of theirs if you’d be interested in that sort of thing.”

 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude in any way. It’s your time with Henry, Em–”

 

“You wouldn’t be.” Emma was quick to assure her, cutting off Regina in the middle of what she was saying. “Just because these are my days with him, doesn’t mean we can’t all be together. Besides, I sorta stole some of your time with him today since he’s here right now when Fridays are technically your day until after dinner.”

 

“That’s quite all right, dear. I do, however, appreciate the invitation to join the two of you.”

 

Emma’s frown was immediate, as was the icy feeling of rejection that pierced her heart and made her sit up straighter. “Yeah, okay. Forget I asked,” she said, feeling a little foolish for even bringing it up. “I should probably, uh, go, or let you go. You’re probably busy, and I - -”

 

“Emma.”

 

“- - guess there’s some stuff that I need to do, too. I’m sorry–”

 

“Emma,” Regina said again with more force this time.

 

Emma sighed and hated how easily Regina could make her feel like she was being a bother when she knew it wasn’t really her intention. She cleared her throat and hopped down from the counter. “Henry and I will be over for dinner at six. Is that all right with you?”

 

Regina sighed, too, like she was giving up on something unknown to Emma. “Of course. Six o’clock is acceptable.”

 

Emma nodded although it could not be seen by the brunette and slid her free hand into her back pocket while staring out of the window but seeing nothing. It was quiet again, but this time it wasn’t their normal quiet that Emma found herself comforted by. It was heavy with all the unspoken words that weren’t being said but were still affecting them. It was thick and gross and made Emma’s skin itch. But she couldn’t bring herself to say anything or end the call.

 

She wanted to spend more time with Regina. She wanted Regina to know that her busy schedule did not mean Emma didn’t still want to be around Regina as often as she could. But at the same time she was starting to doubt that Regina wanted the same thing – even if Henry had said his other mother missed her, and Regina had become one of the closest friends Emma had ever had and kept for the amount of time they’d been friends, and Regina sometimes said things that made Emma think she _wanted_ Emma around. That feeling of being gently pushed away made a part of her want to stop trying and just accept that whatever had been growing between them was temporary and not something she was allowed to hold close.

 

In the end, Regina had ended the phone call, and Emma had continued to stare blankly out of the window, feeling numb until Henry came back down and she forced a smile on her face until it was genuine and took no effort.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

 **_Regina:_ ** **Would you like two jars?**

 

 **_Emma:_ ** **You don’t have to give me any Regina.**

 

 **_Regina:_ ** **Don’t be difficult. It’s completely unnecessary.**

 

Emma rolled her eyes and put her phone on silent and continued her walk with Henry.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

When they got back to the house two hours later, there was a basket waiting on a shady part of the porch. Henry eyed it, but he didn’t touch it as he unlocked the door and did a poor job of hiding his little smirk. Emma looked around her before carefully picking up the basket, not expecting to see anyone but still checking. She knew who had left the basket, and since it was left in the shade to hide from the spring heat as much as possible, she knew the basket-leaver was not waiting for Emma to return home.

 

There were three small glass jars of caramel sauce tucked into red apples. Emma emptied the contents of the basket on the kitchen table and felt a little flutter in her stomach as she did so. There was also a note hidden at the bottom, Regina’s neat script spelling out her name and making it look like it should be written somewhere with liquid gold.

 

Emma glanced up to the stairs that Henry had raced up to get a shower, and then back to the folded note in her hand. She traced the black ink on the crisp white paper and then opened the note.

 

_Don’t eat it all at once. I won’t be as generous next time, so savor it._

 

_Regina_

 

Emma rolled her eyes – something she did a lot of when Regina was involved – and took an apple to the kitchen. She washed her hands, the apple, and grabbed a knife and plate. She pulled out a chair at the table and carefully untied the red ribbon around the jar even though it was not necessary to do so to take off its lid. She licked her lips, her mouth watering as her taste buds prepared for the tasty treat they were about to receive.

 

Once the apple was in thick slices, she opened the jar and dipped the first one into the sticky sauce. When she pulled it back out, the white flesh of the fruit was coated in the delicious caramel all the way up to the middle of the slice. She wasted no time having her first taste, her lashes fluttering as the sweetness coated her tongue and she sucked the caramel off the fruit before taking a loud crunching bite of the crisp apple.

 

Emma fished her phone out of her pocket and quickly went to her recent calls and made an outgoing call to Regina.

 

She was still chewing – and floating on fluffy clouds somewhere, probably – when Regina answered the phone with a soft, hesitant, “Hello.”

 

Emma swallowed and dipped the other half into the caramel. “Thank you,” she said just as softly, smiling as she swirled the apple through the thick sauce.

 

“Of course.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Henry, did you finish working on your science project?” Regina asked casually over their Friday night weekly dinner.

 

“Mm-hmm,” Henry mumbled around his mouthful of spaghetti and shrimp, slurping up pasta noisily.

 

Regina gave him a pointed look and he gave her an apologetic smile and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Regina turned the look on Emma, making it more of a glare and a _years of hard work teaching him proper table manners and then you undo it all_ kind of look that held no heat because Regina’s eyes sorta just softened out when Emma noisily slurped up her own spaghetti and grinned at her. It wasn’t like she ever had anyone teach her proper table manners anyway.

 

But it was Regina, so the fond smile that started to make an appearance was quickly replaced with pursed lips and her eyes hardened. Regina pointed to Emma’s napkin and said, “Your napkin isn’t there for decoration, dear, feel free to use it at any time. And perhaps you can, at the very least, attempt to eat properly for once. You’re setting a terrible example for our son.”

 

“Bite me,” Emma said, making a show of shaking out her napkin and dabbing at her lips.

 

“I’ll pass. You would probably like it too much.”

 

Henry coughed on his water and Emma’s cheeks heated as she lifted an eyebrow. Regina shook her head at herself and diverted her gaze.

 

“You two don’t even try to keep the flirting to a minimum around me anymore. Gross,” Henry said, his eyebrows wrinkling in a way that was so cute that Emma had to reach over the table and rub her thumb between them, making him squirm and knock her hands away as his false frown turned into a big smile.

 

“If I had known I would be having two children over for dinner tonight...” Regina said, giving Emma the _look_ , the _behave, Miss Swan_ look. (Regina had a lot of looks that were just for Emma.)

 

Emma settled in her seat, sharing a grin with her son and then turning her smile towards Regina.

 

The corner of Regina’s mouth twitched, but she brought her wine glass up to cover it before a full smile was visible. Emma winked at her – because it made Regina’s eyes twinkle, and Emma was all for making that happen. They didn’t exactly flirt as Henry called it, but there was something special between them that was borderline flirting and maybe suggestive and too good to put any names or labels on to mess it up. They’d gotten close, and they understood things about each other that other people just couldn’t wrap their heads around long enough to truly get. And they were friends, honest to God friends. Emma liked it, and if the way Regina held her eyes over the rim of the glass and didn’t look away for several seconds was anything to go by, Regina liked it as well.

 

Regina placed her wine glass back on the table and licked her lips, and Emma may or may not have watched her tongue sweep across her lush mouth a second too long. Regina didn’t comment on it.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Emma told me you two will be having a movie marathon this weekend,” Regina said as the three of them moved around the kitchen.

 

Regina was rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. Henry was packing up the leftovers and moving them to the fridge. Emma was helping out them both, but mostly just watching how effortlessly they worked together to get the kitchen and dining room cleared up. They had a routine that worked perfectly for them.

 

“Yeah. Harry Potter. Should be just like back in New York,” he said, throwing a grin at Emma and then frowning a little as he turned to his other mother. “But maybe better if you wanna be a part of it, Mom. There’re rules and stuff you have to follow, though.”

 

Emma didn’t make eye contact with either of them, still feeling the sting of rejection from having her own invitation turned down earlier. She hadn’t told the kid she’d already asked his mom if she wanted to come over, but she thought that maybe she should have. She didn’t want him to think Regina didn’t want to spend time with him. At the same time, she didn’t want Regina to think Emma had brought Henry into the mix to get her to do something she’d already said she didn’t want to do. It was Henry’s idea, even if Regina didn’t know that since Emma had asked first. He thought it would be nice having a weekend with both of them, and weekend marathons were nothing but movies and good food for two days – Emma loved their movie marathons just as much as their son did.

 

To Emma’s surprise, Regina laughed softly and shut off the water before turning to Henry. “Rules? For watching movies.”

 

“It’s not just watching movies. Tell her, Ma.”

 

Emma’s head shot up and she met Regina’s intrigued eyes. The brunette gave her a little nod, and Emma stuffed her hands into her back pockets as she said, “Well.”

 

But Henry, impatient and full of more energy than he knew what to do with, bounced on his feet like he used to do when Emma first met him and he was much smaller and didn’t have one foot past the line that separated childhood from adulthood, cut her off.

 

“It’s an entire weekend with just us. Ma makes breakfast and then we shower and everything, but we usually just put on new pajamas. We start the movies at ten o’clock, make lunch together after the first or second one and order in dinner. Ma used to always fall asleep first.”

 

“I did not,” Emma protested, and Henry and Regina gave her matching looks that clearly said _yeah, sure you didn’t_. Emma rolled her eyes and shoved Henry.

 

Henry stumbled a little and then shoved her back with his body, grinning as she lost her balance a little. “She totally did. Anyway. Sunday we start all over again. Except Sunday’s aren’t as fun because Ma started making us go for a run Sunday mornings before we started and she’s as slow as a snail.”

 

“Oh my God,” Emma said with complete disbelief as he rushed around the kitchen island to get away from her. Regina snickered, and Emma’s look of disbelief was next directed at her. “Tell me you’re not buying these _lies_ your son is telling.”

 

Regina made a noise in her throat and ran her eyes over Emma quickly. “Considering you spend more time sitting behind your desk eating pastries and greasy food than you do out in the field, I must admit that I’m not finding what he’s saying hard to believe.”

 

Emma narrowed her eyes. “Seriously? I’m in great shape. I could run circles around both of you. With my eyes closed. And my hands tied behind my back.”

 

They both laughed at her as they resumed cleaning up, wiping down countertops and the stove.

 

“Emma, I wouldn’t trust you to _walk_ anywhere with your eyes closed and your hands tied behind your back. Your tendency to trip and fall when you can see where you’re going is enough to suggest that would be a terrible idea.”

 

“Yeah, I agree with, Mom. You’re a total Klutz.”

 

Emma huffed and folded her arms.

 

Regina came over to her with a small jar in her hand and held it up to Emma. “This one’s for while you’re here.”

 

Emma’s slight pout barely lasted three seconds. It was impossible to hold it when Regina was smiling at her and giving her _more_ caramel sauce that came with a silent invitation (that she didn’t really need, because Emma acted like she lived with Regina and Henry most of the time anyway and was at Regina’s house more than her own). She was easily bought, apparently, because she didn’t even try to act like she was upset. She just grabbed the jar and pulled herself to sit on top of the kitchen island, ignoring Regina’s hand smacking her thigh to tell her to get down. She never listened, and Regina knew that already.

 

“You’re lucky you’re a goddess in the kitchen and the way to my heart is through my stomach.”

 

Regina rolled her eyes. “It is you who is lucky that I, for reasons I may never know, actually find your unquenchable appetite endearing.”

 

Emma shrugged, opening the jar. “Either way I get delicious food out of it, so whatever you say.”

 

Regina eyed her for a long moment and then turned to Henry, whose mouth was stuffed with some dessert Regina had made. She shook her head and went to the fridge and pulled out the milk, and then she retrieved a glass for her son and poured him some of the milk. Henry smiled with his teeth showing, and there was chocolate on his teeth and caramel on his lips. Emma cringed, but Regina smiled like it was the best thing in the world before she passed him a paper towel.

 

“Thanks,” he mumbled as he wiped his mouth and then chugged down all of his milk without stopping for air. “Ah. That was perfect. So, movie time?”

 

Regina glanced at Emma, who gave her a small nod. “Okay. Why don’t you go pick something out and get it ready, Henry?”

 

“Sweet,” he said, starting to make his way out and then pausing as if a sudden thought popped up in his head. “And what about the movie marathon weekend? You didn’t say if you wanted to join us or not.”

 

Regina hesitated, so Emma looked over her shoulder at the kid. “Let’s get through this one movie first, yeah? We can talk about that later.”

 

Henry narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but he agreed and left them alone.

 

Regina let out a quiet breath and, when Emma turned to face the brunette, questioning brown eyes were looking at her as though she was a puzzle Regina was having a hard time trying to figure out. Emma’s brow furrowed, because Regina didn’t look at her like that too often, not lately, and it made her a bit uncomfortable.

 

She turned the jar over in her hand and looked down at it instead of Regina. “Sooo...” Emma licked her lips. “No apple?”

 

Regina shifted, paused, and then walked away.

 

“When you asked me earlier if I wanted to take part in this movie marathon, were you asking me because it was what Henry wanted?” Regina asked her after a long moment of silence.

 

Emma’s answer was immediate and undeniably guarded. “Would that change your mind?”

 

Water droplets hit her face, and then a shining red apple was held out to her with a knife. “No.” Regina said simply.

 

Emma thanked her for the apple and focused on cutting out a slice instead of on the questions that tumbled around inside her head.

 

“My mind would not need to be changed because I had already wanted to accept the invitation when you invited me over the phone,” Regina admitted when Emma said nothing. “I was, however, unsure whether you were asking only because it was what Henry wanted.”

 

Emma lifted her head just enough to meet Regina’s eyes, to see the fight in them that told Emma she was probably feeling vulnerable at the moment. Reading Regina had become quite easy over the years, but especially with the way things were between them at the moment, Emma found herself able to understand what Regina was saying when she didn’t even say anything at all.

 

Emma breathed out softly and grinned at her. Her eyes dropped back and she opened up her jar of caramel sauce, placed the apple on the lid, and then dug into the jar with the slice. “Henry and I both want to include you. He thought it would be cool to have a family thing that was just the three of us – on top of this on Fridays, of course – and I thought–” Emma bit her apple slice, the sauce dripping a little on her chin. “I wanna spend time with you, too, just us and our kid.”

 

Regina was giving her that look again, but it softened out and her eyes started shining the way they did when she looked at Henry and all her happy emotions were rushing through her. Being the one receiving that look made Emma’s heart pound with excitement, and for a moment she was actually jealous of her son because Regina looked at him like this so often.

 

Regina reached up and lifted Emma’s face a little. Her touch made Emma’s skin feel warm like she’d been sitting out in the sun for hours. Emma knew Regina did things to her body and heart that she couldn’t really put into words but made her want to do something stupid and silly like scream at the top of her lungs how incredible the other woman was. But looking into her eyes, there was something a little different from what she was used to, something more tentative and fragile – but something that was as beautiful as the woman’s whose eyes she saw that _something_ in.

 

Regina’s thumb swept the caramel sauce from Emma’s chin and then she pulled back, licking it from her finger as if it was the most natural thing ever. (And okay, Emma was totally having a moment where her heart was in a romantic place but her body was screaming with desire because _nobody_ had any right to make sucking their thumb clean look _that_ damn sexy.)

 

“I guess tonight will be the beginning of a three-day movie marathon, then,” Regina said simply.

 

And Emma just grinned at her, because damn she was so _gone_ and happy around Regina.

.

 

.

 

.

 

Henry always managed to get what he wanted somehow, and what he wanted was for Emma to just spend the night at Regina’s so they didn’t have to do all the back and forth stuff.

 

And it wasn’t like Emma even tried pretending like the idea didn’t sound perfect to her when he asked her and Regina. Emma hated being at her house most days. It was another home that didn’t fit, another place where she lived but never felt like she was at home. And Regina’s house, well, Regina’s house was somewhere she felt like she belonged.

 

Regina had been surprised by the question, but there was something about the way she looked at Emma before saying it was completely up to her that said _I want you here_.

 

So Emma had gone to her own house to pick up some clothes after Henry went to bed, and then Regina showed her to the guest room beside her own and didn’t leave the room for another hour.

 

Sometimes they talked, and they talked a lot, and it felt natural and like something that shouldn’t be everything Emma had ever wanted but was.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Emma was stirring pancake batter when she heard Henry and Regina’s voices. She put the mixing bowl down and stretched as she made her way out of the kitchen and to the stairs where Regina was standing at the first landing and their son was at the bottom of the stairs. Emma didn’t even have to ask what all the noise was about because it was obvious.

 

Emma narrowed her eyes a little as she tilted her head up and looked at Regina. “Okay, you’re gonna have to turn around and march back into your room and try again, Regina. You’re breaking, like, three rules already and the day hasn’t even started.”

 

“Miss Swan–”

 

“N-n-n-nope. You are _way_ too put together for Saturday breakfast. Not saying you don’t look amazing, ‘cause you do. I mean, this look - -” she pointed with her finger, making an up and down motion while grinning stupidly, “- - yeah, totally working for you. And your hair looks really good today, which it does every day, but, um. You just look extra pretty today, and–”

 

Henry cleared his throat loudly. “Not the point you’re supposed to be making.”

 

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Warmth crawled up her neck and she rubbed at it, noticing the little smirk on Henry’s other mother’s lips, lips that looked really soft and would probably feel like heaven against her own. She smacked her hand against her forehead and shook her head, hoping her brain would get on the right track quickly. “Um. What were we talking about?”

 

Henry rolled his eyes dramatically and huffed out a long, miserable breath. “Rule-breaking. Not supposed to be dressed up. Movie marathon weekend meant to be about relaxing and destressing. Ring any bells?”

 

“Right. Yeah.” She stared blankly up at Regina. Regina raised an eyebrow, and Emma bit the inside of her cheek and turned back to Henry. “You’re handling this one. I’ve got breakfast to make. You know the drill. Comfy clothes only, get on it.”

 

“Chicken,” he mumbled under his breath so only Emma could hear.

 

Emma shrugged her shoulders. “She’ll actually listen to you. I’ll just get a ‘Miss Swan’ and something along the lines of ‘This is my house and I will dress however I choose’.”

 

“Well, my dear, this _is_ my house, and I _will_ dress however I choose to.”

 

Emma held her hands up and gave Henry a look that said _this one’s all yours, kid._

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“I mean, they aren’t pajamas...”

 

Regina narrowed her eyes as she poured herself and Emma coffee.

 

Emma went back to the eggs she was scrambling. “Okay, okay. No more from me. Thank you for taking off the dress.”

 

Regina hummed and brushed her hand against Emma’s back before leaving.

 

Emma smiled and watched her go, appreciating the way Regina’s ass looked in the leggings that Henry had apparently stolen from Emma’s bag and given to Regina to wear. (Emma _really_ wasn’t complaining, not at all.)

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“What on earth are you two eating?”

 

“Popcorn,” Emma and Henry both mumbled with big grins, munching away on the snack they’d put together while Regina went to the bathroom and made a quick phone call.

 

(Her phone’s screen had lit up dozens of times on the coffee table.

 

Rule #4: phones on silent, on the coffee table, and unanswered while watching a movie)

 

Regina’s nose wrinkled as she looked into the bowl. “I see that, amongst various other unhealthy choices.”

 

“The kid told you we run Sunday mornings. We’re allowed to indulge a little first.”

 

Regina gave both her son and Emma one last look before she took a seat on the sofa, her legs next to Emma. Emma had joined Henry on the floor when Regina left, but she was looking forward to getting back up there next to her. Although Regina made no big deal out of it, they’d been finding some way to be connected to each other all day – Regina’s legs across Emma’s lap, Emma’s head on Regina’s shoulder, neither of them trying to make a space that was just for them like Henry had done with his pillows and blanket down on the floor in front of their feet. Feeling Regina’s legs against the side of her body brought a smile to her mouth for that very reason; Regina still wanted to be next to her.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Pizza _has_ vegetables.”

 

Regina’s eyes narrowed.

 

Henry laughed at his mothers. “To be fair, Mom, Emma has a point. It’s tomato sauce.”

 

“Tomatoes are technically a fruit,” Emma said.

 

This time Henry narrowed his eyes. “I’m on _your_ side. Seriously?”

 

“Well, I’m just saying. But I’m pretty sure there are vegetables _in_ the tomato sauce.”

 

“Do you know what else consists of vegetables, Emma? The salad I will be making before the pizza gets here.”

 

Emma folded her arms and groaned. “This is the hamburger conversation all over again.”

 

Regina, clearly having enough, gently pushed Emma off of her and got up. “We are _not_ going through that again. A slice of lettuce and a tomato is not a salad.”

 

“There were onions, too,” Emma called after her.

 

“Give it up, Ma. You’re not going to get her to agree with you.”

 

Emma stretched out on the sofa and shrugged her shoulders. “I know. I just like getting under your mother’s skin a little bit.”

 

Henry rolled his eyes. “You’re weird.”

 

“Your mother’s weird.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” Henry raised his eyebrow challengingly, looking like he was seconds away from calling Regina into the room.

 

“She meant herself,” Regina said, apparently still listening in. “Didn’t you, Miss Swan?”

 

Emma’s eyes moved over to the entrance of the room, trying to calculate how long it would take to get up and run away if she needed to. But she was super comfortable and she didn’t really have it in her to get up and move. So, of course, she said, “Yeah, totally.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Regina did not run.

 

Henry used Regina not running as an excuse for why he didn’t have to go.

 

So Emma went alone, a little upset about it but turning her music up loud before leaving the house.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

So of-fucking-course they decided to surprise her when she was on her second lap around the track she and Henry ran around, meaning she almost had a heart attack because people should _not_ just appear out of thin air when you’re running and blasting music and trying not to be disappointed that you’re alone when you really want to be with your family.

 

“We didn’t want to risk missing you,” Regina explained as she helped Emma up from the ground, dusting her off and checking for scrapes even though Emma was pretty sure she was okay. “Henry thought you might be on your way back by the time we got here if we traveled by foot.”

 

“Yeah, sorry about the fall,” he said with a sheepish grin.

 

“No biggie. I’m not made of glass. I can take a few falls. I’m just - -” she looked at the two of them, and her heart was beating quickly from her run but also because she was overwhelmed with a sudden burst of emotions, “- - I’m happy you’re both here. I’m surprised, but definitely happy.”

 

Regina was still holding on to her arm, and they both seemed to realize it at the same moment because as soon as she noticed, Regina pulled her hand away and clasped her hands in front of her stomach while looking away. “Henry thought you might want the company.”

 

“Henry thought,” Emma repeated, turning to their son.

 

Henry rolled his eyes. “I thought you two were past that,” Henry said, taking the words right out of Emma’s head.

 

Regina rolled her eyes, too, but it was with a smile as she wrapped her arm around him and gave him a side-hug. “Henry _and I_ thought you might like some company.”

 

Emma grinned. “Hell yeah. Let’s get to it.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Movie marathon weekends became a bimonthly thing after that because it had gone so well.

 

And after a few months, they were finding excuses to spend every weekend at Regina’s place instead of Emma’s.

 

The kid came up with good ideas, she’d give him that. And Regina, well, she was always happy to have more time with Henry and never gave Emma any reason to believe that she wasn’t enjoying their time with all three of them together.

 

Emma started spending most of her free time with Regina and Henry, and of course sometimes the three of them would go over to David and Snow’s or Granny’s for dinner or lunch with the whole family.

 

Sometimes it felt like Emma had more family than she knew what to do with.

.

 

.

 

.

 

There were still times Emma wanted to hate them, her parents.

 

She told Mary Margaret that she understood why they had sent her away.

 

An entire kingdom to save was important business – she got it, or at least that’s what she told her mother, and if Snow noticed the bitterness in her tone, she didn’t say anything about it.

 

The truth was, that little girl who had cried in the shower and let the burning water scald her skin until someone would bang on the door and warn her that she better not be using up all the hot water still lived inside of Emma. The girl who hated herself for not being enough still existed. She just knew now that false bravado and confident swagger could fool anyone into believing she was all right. (Almost anyone, she mentally corrected, thinking of sarcasm spilling from her lips but not missing knowing brown eyes softening ever so slightly and _you’re an idiot_ sounding a whole lot like _I care and understand._ )

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Emma, honey, is that you?” Mary Margaret called from somewhere unseen when Emma used her key to let herself into the home that wasn’t really hers anymore but still felt more like home than her lonely house did.

 

“Yeah,” she answered, quietly closing the door in case Neal was being put down for a nap or something. “I thought I’d drop by to see if you needed, uh, help with anything around the house, or whatever, I don’t know.”

 

Her mother appeared a second later, leaving the bathroom with a slightly amused expression on her face as she eyed her daughter. “You came over to see if I needed help around the house or whatever. How long did you work on that one, Emma? Most definitely no longer than it took you to walk up the stairs.” She gave Emma a knowing smile and squeezed her upper arm while passing. She got the kettle and filled it up with water and started getting things ready for tea without asking Emma if she wanted any. “You know you don’t need an excuse to stop by,” she said cheerily, throwing a smile over her shoulder. “I love when you come over for a visit.”

 

“Geez. Am I that transparent?” she asked with a half-smile as she climbed up onto a stool.

 

She watched Mary Margaret move around the kitchen. There was something calming about it. She had subconsciously been seeking that out, she realized, and that was why she had ended up at the loft when she left her stuffy house to go for a walk. Mary Margaret had a calming aura, even when the woman herself was sleep-deprived because of the little one or whatever it was that she stressed about when she wasn't afraid her daughter would become the things nightmares were made of or she was walking among the dead (and then becoming the dead).

 

(Sometimes it was still difficult thinking of her mother as Snow White. It had taken her a while getting used to mom, so she didn’t really expect calling her Snow instead of Mary Margaret all the time to really happen anytime soon. Luckily, she lit up when Emma called her mom and that seemed to be enough for her.)

 

“Of course not, honey,” she answered too quickly. When Emma raised her brow, the brunette sighed dramatically and then smiled. “Well maybe a little, but I like to think that’s because I’m your mother. I’m supposed to be able to know these things.” She shrugged her shoulders and turned away quickly.

 

Emma didn’t respond to what she said. She reached for a water bottle that was on the opposite end of the island and started peeling away the paper instead, picking at it with her fingernails as she listened to the sound of water starting to boil in the kettle and her mom’s fingers absently tapping on the counter as she waited.

 

Perhaps it was that she had let her mind drift away to nothingness for a moment that she jumped slightly with comically wide eyes when her mother asked, “So how’s Regina doing?”

 

“Huh?” The sound practically jumped out of her throat, a loud squeak. Her mother’s brow furrowed worriedly, eyebrows knitting together. Emma blinked. “Oh, Regina, um. Regina’s, well, you know.” Emma shrugged. Her stomach twisted in knots, uncomfortable knots that made her feel weird. She sounded guilty of a crime that she hadn’t been accused of, and she wasn’t even sure why. She scratched the back of her neck and shrugged again, looking away from her mother’s eyes. “I mean, she’s doing pretty good.”

 

“O-kay,” Mary Margaret said slowly, sliding over the tea she had gotten ready for Emma without the blonde even noticing it. “Are you okay, Emma? Is there something–”

 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Emma promised. “I’m just tired.” And it wasn’t like that was a lie. She was exhausted, had been working more shifts than normal and pushing herself a little further when she went running to keep herself busy and occupied and out of the house she was really getting tired of being in. “Thanks for the tea.”

 

Mary Margaret nodded carefully, but when Emma gave her a genuine smile, the brunette seemed to calm her worries and relaxed again.

 

“I hope you haven’t been overdoing it at the station. While your father and I have been very grateful for the extra time we have on days where we were previously seeing very little of each other and he was mostly home when Neal did most of his sleeping, neither of us want you to spend all of your time working. You need to be getting proper rest as well.”

 

The warm sensation that spread throughout Emma’s chest because of the concern in her mom’s voice was nothing new, but she still reveled in it a second or two before she nodded her head in agreement. “Trust me, I know. Regina likes to remind me that I have deputies for a reason all the time.” She rolled her eyes, but her mother smiled as she raised her tea cup up to her mouth. “What?”

 

Mary Margaret shook her head, her smile still proudly displayed on her lips. “Nothing, sweetheart.”

 

Emma side-eyed her mother, knowing there was something she wasn’t saying. But she didn’t do anything besides smile like she was in awe or something like that. Emma gave up on trying to push and shrugged her shoulders, getting the feeling that it was probably another Regina thing. They didn’t exactly _talk_ about what Emma felt about her, but Emma had a feeling her mother knew she had feelings for her son’s other mother and was just waiting for Emma to be ready to speak to her about it. And maybe that was what that weird sensation had been before, the one that made her feel like she was hiding something or doing something wrong. Whenever Regina came up, she always felt like Mary Margaret was expecting that to be the moment Emma chose to tell her everything, but Emma still didn’t know what there was to tell, honestly.

 

“David said you started painting again...?” Emma quirked an intrigued eyebrow towards the brunette. “I didn’t even know you painted for that to be something you started up again.”

 

Her cheeks blushed while she went and grabbed the unfinished painting she’d started. It was of a bird, of course, which made Emma smile a little. “Well, it’s nothing, really,” she started in her normal modest way.

 

With a topic that instantly made Mary Margaret’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree, everything sorta felt nice and calm and Emma just relaxed and listened to the sound of the other woman’s voice while she enjoyed her herbal tea.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Most days she loved them with everything in her, though.

 

Family fucked up and made mistakes and did stupid shit, but that didn’t stop them from being family. She had spent too long wanting to be a part of one – to _really_ be a part of one – to not learn to deal with her past pain on her own and move forward with what she had.

 

And what she had were two parents who loved her so much that sometimes it was overwhelming and made her struggle for air when she was embraced by all the love they had for her, still unaccustomed to it but having no desire to go without it now that she had it.

 

What she had now was a son who made her want to be the best she could be and reminded her why second chances were important when he brought her into his life and let her be his mom even though she had given up the right to that role so long ago.

 

What she had was a baby brother who didn’t have to be a reminder of what she lost out on (or a replacement for her parents) but instead the sibling that would never be taken away from her, the little brother she could read to and teach cool things to like she had always secretly wanted as a kid.

 

What she had, Emma realized one night over family dinner at Granny’s, was a woman in her life who knew how to get under her skin like nobody else but lately had just been making her feel warm all over when she smiled at their son like he was her whole world and then turned and looked at her without any of the light leaving her eyes or warm smile like maybe Emma had a special place in her heart just like Henry did.

 

Some days she thought about _what do you know about family?_ and thought she still didn’t know all that much in the grand scheme of things but knew what mattered: she had one, and they were important to her.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Emma never noticed how empty her house was until it was nighttime and Henry was sleeping in his bedroom in his actual home. It was quiet, and while she logically knew the short hallway upstairs was still only a few feet long, it felt like it went on for miles and miles with no end in sight. Everything was cold and felt like it belonged in an abandoned house instead of the place that she was supposed to call her home.

 

Emma never thought about how much she missed her bedroom in Regina’s house until she couldn’t even lay in her own bed without thinking about how damn lonely she was. It wasn’t like she was any less alone in the queen-sized bed that she spent most of her nights in on the second floor of Regina’s house. But she never felt alone there. The sound of the wind outside her window didn’t make the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and her heart didn’t start racing at odd moments when she thought someone was about to come and catch her trespassing, catch her living in a place where she didn’t belong.

 

Emma wasn’t even in her bed anymore, not even in the house. She was sitting outside on the porch, cross-legged, looking up at the big pale moon. It was warmer outside than it felt inside her house, and the stars were certainly more captivating than the blank walls in her bedroom. She put the hood on her hoodie up and sighed, leaning her head back and trying to find a little bit of peace when she was honestly feeling like crap. This was the kind of night where she wanted to be anywhere but at this house that reminded her of never-fulfilled promises and old houses that had never been a home, just like this one never would be.

 

She pulled her phone from her pocket. Even with the light on its dimmest setting, it felt bright as she pressed the button so she could see the lockscreen. It was a new photo of Regina and Henry, from the barbecue on Independence Day. (Any excuse for booze, Leroy had said, and Emma had knocked her beer against his before running up to Regina and Henry and throwing an arm around both of them. Emma was a _little_ tipsy when she took the picture, so she cut herself out because dammit Regina looked like the sun was shining from her eyes and Henry had ketchup on his cheek and it was the little things that kept him young, and she wasn’t going to let her flushed cheeks and half-closed eyes ruin a perfectly good picture.)

 

Her finger traced the curve of Regina’s jaw and something deep deep down pulled, and she had to shut her eyes to stop the sting of tears. She wanted to be with her instead of alone on her porch in the middle of the night. She wanted to be close to Regina and feel her body heat even though she was already warm enough. She wanted to feel Regina’s even breaths against her skin while the other woman slept because she knew that it didn’t make her uncomfortable with Regina like she thought it might. She wanted to be with Regina.

 

,

 

.

 

.

 

Emma Swan might have possibly been the queen of bad ideas.

 

It was almost one o’clock in the morning, and Emma was standing in front of Regina’s front door with her cell phone in her hand and her heart heavy. She couldn’t just ring the doorbell and say _hey, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by._ She was wearing shorts and a translucent tank top beneath her hoodie, and flip-flops she hadn’t even remembered she owned until she was looking for a pair of shoes that weren’t boots and came across them. She wasn’t dressed for a walk around the neighborhood. She wasn’t even wearing a bra, for goodness’ sake! And she certainly wasn’t dressed like she had actually planned this out, because, well, she hadn’t.

 

Emma debated on what to do for a few minutes before sighing and sitting down on the single step. Even sitting out in front of Regina’s house felt more like being home than sitting outside of her house did, and that had to mean something.

 

Emma wished she had actually thought about this for a minute or two before walking over to Regina’s house. Perhaps she would have decided to go to her parents' apartment instead. David wasn’t there, so Mary Margaret might have been happy to have someone help with the little one so she could sleep or whatever. Or maybe she would have remembered that Henry’s keys were on her table and she could have let herself into Regina’s house without needing to wake anyone up. It wouldn’t have been the first time she let herself in, and Regina said she could.

 

Instead, she was sitting outside in shorts in the middle of the night and it was getting chilly.

 

Suddenly, Emma’s phone vibrated in her hand and she nearly threw the device across the front lawn because it startled her.

 

 ** _Regina:_** **I almost called the sheriff’s department on you. Trespassing is illegal. You do know that, right?**

 

Emma cracked a smile as she looked behind her, seeing light flood the house and come through the glass. The door unlocked with swift clicks, and then Regina, wearing a satin robe that dusted her thighs, came into view.

 

“Gonna call me to arrest myself?” Emma asked with a friendly smile when she noticed the soft look Regina was giving her. She didn’t think she would ever get used to Regina actually looking as though she was happy to see her on the other side of the door when she opened it.

 

Regina didn’t answer her question, choosing instead to step back and open the door all the way. So Emma got up off the ground and followed Regina in, walking over to put her shoes away and then following Regina up the four stairs that brought them to the main level of the house.

 

Regina turned and gave her a curious once-over. “You walked here like this, Miss Swan?”

 

Emma looked down at herself, back up at Regina, and then stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t really think any of this through.”

 

“Why am I not surprised?!” Regina said in a low voice as she shook her head and crossed her arms around her body. “And what, might I ask, is it that you’re doing here at one in the morning? And why did you not call me instead of loitering outside of my house?”

 

“Funny story, actually,” Emma started, but she didn’t really have it in her for joking around and there was something about Regina’s demeanor that said Regina would prefer if she didn’t. So she let out a long breath and said, “I didn’t want to wake you up. I hadn’t really thought about it when I left my house – how I would get in – but I didn’t want to be _there_ when both of you are _here_ and I - -” Emma looked anywhere but at Regina, “- - Imissedyou.”

 

And although the words were forced out in one breath, Regina’s sharp inhale made it clear the brunette had heard what she said.

 

“I should probably go, right?” she asked quietly, not wanting to and hoping Regina didn’t want her to.

 

“If you’re going to walk to my house in the middle of the night because you miss me, Emma, the least I can do is invite you to stay.”

 

Emma dared to look at Regina, knowing hope was in her eyes. Regina held out a hand to her, and although Emma took a moment to reach out for it, when she did, Regina gently pulled her around the bend of the stairs and started guiding her up to the second floor.

 

“You don’t have to–”

 

“Shh,” Regina shushed her immediately. “You know me well enough to know I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”

 

Emma laughed a little. “Yeah, I know.”

 

Regina smirked over her shoulder.

 

“Regina?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Thank you for letting me stay the night here.”

 

Regina squeezed her hand.

 

Emma closed Regina’s bedroom door and then leaned against it a few moments later, watching Regina with careful eyes as she untied her robe and slowly peeled it off. She’d only been inside Regina’s room a few times and had been a little surprised when Regina brought her there without any explanation. While an invitation into anyone else’s bed might have been something sexual, an invitation from Regina wasn’t. People were at their most vulnerable when they were sleeping, and Regina did not enjoy being vulnerable, had decades worth of experience putting up walls around everyone, even those she was closest to. But Regina was taking off her robe and sliding into her bed while looking at Emma with expectant yet cautious eyes, and there were no walls, only Regina.

 

Emma gave her a slight smile and pushed herself away from the door. “I haven’t shaved in, like, well, let’s just say it’s been a really long time, so sorry about that,” she said as she unzipped her hoodie and put it on the armchair, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“Just get in the bed, Emma. In case you’ve forgotten, you live in a town full of people who, yes, have adapted to your social norms but are from a place that didn’t put as much weight on such trivial things such as body hair. I can assure you it will not bother me in the slightest. You bouncing over there instead of getting in the bed, however, might hit a nerve in a second or two.”

 

“Right,” Emma breathed. “Just didn’t want you to think a grizzly bear broke in or anything like that in the middle of the night.”

 

Regina rolled her eyes, but Emma was proud of the smile she made appear on the other woman’s full lips.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Emma had been staring at Regina’s bedroom ceiling for most of the night, unable to sleep. Her head was laying on what might have been the most comfortable pillow to ever exist, and the sheets were probably made from clouds and magic, or whatever made sheets feel like a welcome home kind of embrace that she never wanted to pull herself away from. However, Emma Swan couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t even like she was uncomfortable or anything like that. Regina was on one side of the bed, and she had her own space on the other – and Regina didn’t even really snore, just made these cute noises every so often that she would probably deny if Emma ever brought it up. It was the perfect temperature, too, just cool enough for her to get under the sheet if she wanted to without it being a must to keep her from getting cold. Basically, everything was perfect except for the fact that it had been hours since Regina fell asleep and Emma was still wide awake.

 

First, she had lain on her stomach and watched time move forward. Time moved even slower than normal at night when you wanted it to hurry up and be morning and you were watching every minute go by.

 

Then, she had rolled over on her side and followed the slow, even pattern of Regina’s chest rising and falling with her quiet breaths. That had actually been nice for a while. Regina was much calmer now than she had been when they first met, but that calm was nothing compared to how at peace she looked when she was asleep and she wasn’t wearing makeup or a mask or any armor. There was something almost untouchable about her like that, not in a bad way, just in a way that made Emma want to put a barrier around her so nobody could get to her and disturb her.

 

Later, Emma had found herself on her back, arms folded back on her pillow so her head was on them. That was how she still laid, no cracks on the ceiling to count, no dots to connect like with the popcorn ceilings she had hated growing up – Regina’s ceilings were as perfect as every other inch of the house, which honestly made staring at them ridiculously boring.

 

Emma got restless easily, and soon she was kicking her feet and then groaning under her breath.

 

Suddenly, Emma felt a hand grab her thigh and squeeze. She bolted up, preparing to kick someone’s ass for touching her. Her sleepy mind then decided to actually work instead of spending all of its time making her think about useless junk to keep herself from going insane while she was waiting for the sun to come up and she realized the hand that had touched her had only been Regina’s. She let out a soft breath and fell back down to the bed, fluffing her pillow and then curling up on her side.

 

“Sorry,” she whispered, pulling her knees close to her and getting rid of the urge to move her legs.

 

Emma was facing away from Regina, looking towards the white lamp on the wood nightstand, so she didn’t know Regina had turned to look at her until the sleep-rasped voice said, “This bed is more than big enough for the two of us. You don’t have to sleep on the edge like that.”

 

Emma looked over her shoulder. “I know. I just don’t want to wake you up again.”

 

Regina hummed in and let her heavy eyelids fall shut. “Sleep, Emma.”

 

“Can’t,” she huffed, rolling back over onto her back. “Too much going on in my head.”

 

Regina made a noise in her throat that was filled with more sarcasm than any simple sound should be able to contain. Emma rolled her eyes, but she felt a smile tugging at her lips and cheeks. Even in the middle of the night – without even saying a word – Regina was a sarcastic asshole, and Emma sorta, maybe, definitely loved that about her.

 

Emma turned her head and pressed her cheek against the soft pillow. Her eyes found Regina’s face in the soft gray of the room. It looked softer like this, in the dark, when Regina was resting, when she was just breathing and there weren’t crises and chaos and battles both out there and internally to be fought. It made Emma want to lean over and kiss her. A lot of things made Emma want to kiss Regina lately, if she thought about it. But she didn’t think they were ready for that, even as they shared a bed and what laid inside her heart wasn’t exactly a secret that she kept from Regina, just something they didn’t talk about.

 

(There was a lot they didn’t talk about.)

 

“What?” Regina breathed out impatiently, startling Emma.

 

“Uh. What? I didn’t say anything,” Emma said slowly, her brow crinkling with confusion.

 

“No,” Regina started as she rolled onto her side, eyes still closed although she now faced Emma, “but you have been staring at me for over five minutes. Either say something or stop staring at me so I can go back to sleep.”

 

“Oh, sorry,” Emma mumbled.

 

Regina sighed.

 

Emma closed her eyes.

 

Regina sighed again. “What is it that is keeping you awake?”

 

Emma shrugged one shoulder, although she was sure Regina still wasn’t looking at her. “Stuff.”

 

The low growl Regina let out in response made her bite back a smile. “Miss Swan, I know it’s late and you have a difficult time with your vocabulary during your normal working hours, but do try to do better than one-worded and unreasonably vague answers that will neither express your thoughts or move this conversation along.”

 

“Fine. _Just stuff._ How’s that? There’s two words,” she said with a proud grin that Regina wiped off her face with a pinch to her hip. “Ow.”

 

“Try again, dear.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes and rubbed her hip. It didn’t actually hurt, though. “I was just thinking,” she said. Regina cleared her throat, kinda like a warning, and Emma couldn’t resist rolling her eyes again. “About Killian,” she shared softly, and then in an even quieter voice, “and you.”

 

She could feel the moment Regina stiffened, the shift in the air. But there were no biting comments or sarcastic quips or one-liners about the pirate, not anymore. (He was one of those things they didn’t talk about, too.) Regina didn’t ask her to elaborate, and so they continued to lay there in silence for several long minutes.

 

After a while, Emma figured Regina had probably managed to fall back asleep without Emma moving around to disturb her. Just in case she hadn’t, though, and she was giving Emma permission to talk about what was on her mind or just leave it as it was, Emma licked her lips and started speaking in a quiet voice that would be just loud enough for Regina to hear or low enough not to wake her if she was once again sleeping.

 

“During my lunch break the other day I joined Mary M– my mom and Neal at the park and we were talking about our return to Storybrooke and everything that went on in, well, Hell. Still weird thinking about how we were dead for a little bit, you know. Next time I say I want to do something like that, put your foot down and tell me no. Like, I appreciate that you’ve got my back and all that and would literally go to Hell and back for me, but I’m pretty much over all this crap that we have to go through all the time. You know? So, I don’t know, maybe remind me that on our last crazy mission we ended up _dead_ so I can remember how much I actually really love my life right now and don’t wanna give any of this up.

 

“Anyway. We were talking about her and David, and Killian came up. And like, I thought it was going to be another one of those conversations that make me want to pull my hair out. If I have to listen to one more person talk about true love and all that stuff one more time...” Emma peeked her eyes open, but Regina looked just as she thought she would, calm and relaxed as though she was sleeping. Emma sighed, but she continued on. “But it wasn’t all that bad. She didn’t even push for me to open up about my feelings, which was...new, but nice. It was me who decided to tell her that sometimes I’m not sure if I really loved him or not.”

 

Emma’s heart ached a little in her chest and she squeezed her eyes tight and pinched her nose. Regina shuffled a little closer, but she still didn’t say anything. The brush of a hand against her arm was still a small comfort, whether intentional or not.

 

“I spent so many years of my life wanting what he kept saying he would give me. Love. I think after Neal and jail and losing hope, I stopped craving it as much as I did when I was a kid. But years of longing doesn’t just go away because you tell yourself you can’t have something. I learned to go without – I mean, I was pretty good at it already, and that was basically how everything was in my life. And I filled the emptiness I felt with temporary and momentary, you know, quick and easy and nothing messy. But then there was Henry, and I had parents, and friends, and.... I guess I stopped trying to deny myself happiness and that wanting for someone to love me romantically and really mean it came back. And Hook - -” Emma laughed quietly, mirthlessly, shaking her head, “- - even when I pushed him away, he just kept on coming back like he wouldn’t give up.

 

“Looking back, I’m not sure why I gave in. I don’t like when men take my rejection as a challenge to get me to change my mind. But I did, and after a while, things were actually, surprisingly, _nice_. For a while at least. In the end, I knew that what I loved most was the fact that he loved me. It wasn’t anything about him. He could have been anyone, you know? It was the fact that he did something I spent years wanting someone to do that made me want to believe it was all true.

 

“If I did love him, I loved him because _he_ loved _me_ and not because of the person he was. You know what I mean?”

 

It was barely a whisper, but Regina answered her and almost made Emma jump out of her skin because she had been talking aloud to herself for a while and had forgotten she wasn’t alone. “I know.”

 

(Robin, Emma thought, but that was another thing they didn’t talk about. Emma sometimes thought Regina’s feelings for him were because he gave her hope for happiness, not happiness itself. But like Killian, he was a person of the past and they didn’t talk about it.)

 

Emma smiled as she rolled over onto her side and took Regina’s hand into her own, closing her eyes just as quickly as she had opened them to locate the hand with cool fingertips. She felt lighter somehow, like she had needed to tell Regina about that stuff with Killian to get it out of the way.

 

Regina allowed her to slip her fingers between the spaces of her own, and slowly Emma curled them downward and pressed their palms together. She didn’t think Regina was much of a hand-holding kind of woman, and with most people, neither was Emma – but when Emma squeezed and the tips of her fingers pressed into the back of Regina’s hand, she heard the softest, most contented sigh and felt Regina squeeze back in return.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“It’s different with you.”

 

Emma wasn’t sure if Regina was still awake or not, but she whispered into the darkened night all the same.

 

“This isn’t easy or uncomplicated or any of the other stuff that I associated with loving Hook. I don’t love you because you make promises to love me. There’s more of a fight with us, a push and pull. I don’t think anyone would ever say anything about our relationship has ever been easy, and that’s one of the things I love about it. I don’t want it to be easy, because that’s not us. There’s no doubt in my mind when I think about how much I love you, Regina. I know for a fact because I had to fight to get where I am now, and I think you did, too.”

 

Regina didn’t say anything, but Emma felt the fingers still wrapped around her own tighten. She didn’t need her to say anything back. She didn’t tell Regina she loved her to hear the words said back to her. She said it because she needed Regina to know that _she_ was loved. Regina had spent months looking after her when they came back from the Underworld and went above and beyond what anyone had ever done for Emma in her life, and if that wasn’t love, then Emma didn’t know what was. So there was no questioning anymore if Regina cared for her, but she wanted to make sure that Regina didn’t question it either, that Regina knew that Emma loved her back in whatever way Regina chose to love her.

 

“I love you because I choose to, and I choose to love you every day,” she whispered.

.

 

.

 

.

 

They didn’t talk about any of it the next day.

 

(Emma sleeping in her bed, the things that were said, nor the fact that Regina woke up in her arms and didn’t pretend to be asleep when Emma woke up and found her there.)

 

The list of things they didn’t speak about had been a lengthy one for a while, and it only continued to grow. Emma wondered if not talking about that night was a bad thing. There were things on the list that they probably should talk about, that they actually needed to talk about. Then there were things they didn’t talk about but didn’t need to because it would make no difference if they did. It was difficult trying to decide if they weren’t talking about it because it wasn’t a big deal, or if they didn’t talk about any of it because it would ruin whatever it was that had been going on between the two of them.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

 **_Emma:_ ** **How long do we need to stay before we can politely get up and go home?**

 

Regina glanced up from her phone and looked across the large blanket spread across the grass. There was a hint of a smirk when she looked at Emma, but before she could reply or say anything, Snow put her hand on Regina’s arm and started talking to her. Just like that, she snatched her away, and Emma felt a nasty twist of jealousy somewhere deep in her. _Mine. Mine. Mine._

 

David tried bringing her into the conversation he and Henry were having, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of where her mom was holding Regina’s arm. Most days she liked that the two of them got along pretty well nowadays. It made family dinners a little more normal when nobody at the table was thinking about murdering the other. (Or maybe not. She wasn’t sure. She was new to this family thing, and movies suggested that thinking about killing your family members actually wasn’t that strange.) But right then all she saw were all the times something that was hers was taken away from her and given to someone else, and God that made her want to punch something.

 

Regina wasn’t property, though, and she didn’t want to think of her like that. She also wasn’t Emma’s anything. Well, her friend, yeah, but she shouldn’t be getting so jealous because her friend was giving someone else attention.

 

_Ugh._

 

“I’m going for a walk,” Emma announced grumpily, no longer in the mood for a family picnic.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

When Emma finished her walk, which had turned into her throwing rocks against a tree and then sitting down at a stream for a little while, she found Regina waiting for her about a fourth of a mile away from where the others were. She pulled her sunglasses off as Emma approached, and she could see the worry in her brown eyes before she could even make sense of the rest of the emotions that played across her face. Emma sighed and her shoulders slumped. She stopped a few yards away.

 

“Feeling better?”

 

“Not really.”

 

Regina swept her eyes over Emma as she asked, “Would you like to tell me what’s wrong with you?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“All right, then. We should get back.” Regina nodded and turned away, but she hadn’t done so quickly enough to hide the disappointment she probably didn’t want Emma to see.

 

“Wait,” Emma said hurrying up to reach her before she left. She didn’t physically stop her, but she hoped her coming closer would be enough to make Regina turn back around. “What are you even doing over here?” Her tone was harder, tighter, than she meant for it to be.

 

Regina did turn around after that, and it was with a look that made Emma regret getting Regina to stop. She should have just let her go. “You got up and went for a walk for nearly an hour, Emma. You didn’t respond to any of the text messages we sent you. I could tell something was wrong with you, so I gave you some space to clear your head or whatever you might need before I came looking for you. Are you honestly questioning why I’m here right now?”

 

Emma looked away from her. Regina looked hurt, and Emma hadn’t been the reason for that look in so long – hadn’t even seen that look in so long – that it made everything inside of her ache. She swallowed around the lump that was suddenly in her throat.

 

“Forgive me for thinking you might actually want someone to talk to, no, that you might actually want to talk to me about whatever was bothering you so badly that you needed to get away from everyone for almost an hour.”

 

“Regina,” Emma breathed out, but Regina was already walking away from her.

 

Emma frowned at the nothingness that was in front of her, the spot where Regina had stood waiting for Emma to return. How long had she waited? Why did she even bother? _Because she cares about you, you idiot._ Emma stomped her foot down against the dirt and curled her hands into fists. Why was it so easy to mess up things when everything was going so well? In a matter of seconds, it felt like everything they had built was crumbling before Emma’s very eyes. And fuck it hurt. It felt like someone had yanked out her heart and stomped all over it. And that someone was her, because she was always messing things up for herself whether she meant to or not.

 

Emma slumped down to the ground with her back against a tree trunk and decided to sit there until she knew how to make sure that hurt look wasn’t in Regina’s eyes anymore.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Sometimes Regina held on too tightly, and sometimes Emma let good things slip through her fingers.

 

It didn’t take long for Emma to understand that as different as they could be, they were very much alike. They had similar souls, similar fears and doubts that led to them thinking some of the same dark thoughts, the ones that Emma never really spoke about and Regina couldn’t really hide at this point.

 

Emma’s mindset had always been to never let herself get attached so she could pick up and leave whenever it all became too much. When Emma feared being replaced or pushed aside for something – someone – better, she ran. Regina, however, clung to what she was afraid of losing. Emma wondered if they would balance each other out – Regina holding Emma close to quiet the voices in her head that told her she needed to get away – or if they would be disastrous together and Emma wouldn’t stay long enough to give Regina the chance to want her around enough to even care if Emma left.

 

The thing was, Emma was already attached and she didn’t feel that impulse to run, not really. And sometimes when they were alone Regina looked at her like she couldn’t really believe Emma was there but she wouldn’t have wanted anyone else by her side.

 

(They balanced each other out, she decided. They still had the power to destroy and blow up, but maybe constantly choosing not to was what made all the difference.)

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Emma pushed her finger against the doorbell and waited. Her stomach was in knots and her heart still hurt. ( _And_ her ass hurt. Sitting on the ground in the woods for over two hours was a bad idea.) She couldn’t exactly handle standing still, so she rocked on her feet as she chewed on the inside of her cheek and worked through the things she wanted to say to Regina.

 

She’d thought about it for a long time. Emma had come to the conclusion that it was time for them to talk about some of the things on there ‘No Talk’ list.

 

For a long while, she had been okay with the way things were between them. There were no defining labels, and sometimes that made it easier. But there was also that feeling like at any minute she could be replaced by someone better, and it wouldn’t even be replaced because that person would take a role in Regina’s life that Emma had never been told in definite words she could take.

 

Emma was practically living with Regina, and it was about time they talked about that, too. She wanted it to be real, permanent. Emma Swan wanted the forever home she never had, and she wanted Regina’s house to be that home. She wanted to pay gas bills and complain about dusting but do it anyway. She wanted a key to let herself in, and to say _see you in the morning_ to Henry every night and meet him downstairs for breakfast.

 

Emma–

 

The white door opened and Emma’s head popped up, her eyes rushing to meet Regina’s.

 

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, not wanting to give Regina the chance to close the door in her face. Emma licked her lips and lowered her voice, hoping all the emotions that were racing through her were visible in her eyes as she looked at Regina. “You were there to talk to me because you were worried, and I should have known that. I did know that. But I was still upset with myself and didn’t just talk to you or explain why I didn’t want to talk like I should have. I was gone for a long time, and I ignored all of your attempts to get in contact with me. Something could have happened to me, I get that now, and you were worried. And I’m sorry.”

 

Regina let a long breath, like she was tired, and took a step back. “Come in.”

 

Emma felt a little less heavy as she took two large steps and entered the house. Regina hadn’t turned her away. That was a good sign, she thought.

 

Regina locked the door and then paused, silently looking at Emma before she let out another breath and turned away. She brought them to the kitchen, where she pulled out some tea and held it up for Emma to see. It was the one she liked – the one Regina only bought for her – so she nodded her head and stood awkwardly at the island.

 

Emma missed that comfortable silence that she was surprised she could have with Regina. The silence inside the kitchen as Regina stood with her back straight and her eyes focused on the kettle was cold and made her feel like she was drowning and didn’t have the slightest idea how to save herself. Regina’s knuckles were white, and there was a voice inside her head that told her to go offer her some comfort, to soothe her in some way. But there was a laughing voice even louder than that which told her that Regina wouldn’t want that, Regina didn’t even want _her_.

 

Emma sucked in a loud breath and curled her nails into her palms, shutting the noises up, ignoring her doubts. Because they were lies. Regina _did_ want her. Regina went through too much effort with Emma, had done too much in the past for her, had saved her too many times (usually when she didn’t even know that was what she was doing, when she was just sending her food when Emma was struggling to be everything everyone expected of her and still be okay). Regina wanted her. Regina wanted her.

 

_REGINA WANTED HER!_

 

“Can I take care of the tea for you?” Emma asked, taking a single step closer. She wanted to leave her enough space in case she needed it, but she wanted Regina to know she was there with her.

 

Regina lifted her head, but she didn’t turn to look at Emma. “No, dear, that’s quite all right. Why don’t you have a seat?”

 

Emma lifted up one of the chairs and pulled it out quietly so she could take a seat. She looked around the kitchen and towards the entryway. “Henry’s with Snow and David?” she guessed out loud.

 

“Yes. They thought it was best to give us a chance to talk in private if we chose to, and they promised to make sure he had a well-balanced home-cooked meal.”

 

Emma nodded, tapping her fingers against her thigh. “That was nice of them.”

 

Regina made a noise in her throat. Then, very suddenly, she spun around and made Emma’s eyes jump up to look at her. “What are we doing, Emma?”

 

“Uh. About to have tea...? I think.”

 

Regina’s fingers flexed, but she took a calming breath before speaking. “Please refrain from replying without taking a moment to think before you speak.”

 

Emma’s eyes narrowed.

 

“I’m well aware of what we are about to do right now in the kitchen. I’m the one who invited you in here for that very reason, after all.”

 

Regina’s eyes softened a little as she looked away – only for a brief moment, but Emma had noticed it; she was fighting against her instinct to put up her walls – and then she turned away fully when the kettle started whistling. She removed it, turned off the stove, and then Regina’s shoulders sagged in a way that was very un-Regina-like.

 

“I thought I understood. I thought we were actually on the same page about what was happening between us. But I’m–” Regina straightened up and cleared her throat. “I don’t want to fall in love with someone who isn’t ready for what that means.” And then she laughed humorlessly, and the strength that she had been able to force for a few seconds gave way to the tired, cautious voice that wavered. “I don’t want to be in love with someone who isn’t ready to be with me. Because I fell in love with you a long time ago, Emma, and I, I don’t think I can do this again unless, unless–”

 

“Hey,” Emma said, putting her hands on Regina’s arms and turning her around to face her. “Look at me. Look at me, Regina.”

 

Regina squeezed her eyes tightly and took several deep breaths. “God,” she said under her breath, and Emma loosened her grasp but stayed right in front of Regina.

 

“I’m all in, okay. You’ve got me, all of me. I realized before I came here that there’s a lot we haven’t spoken about, and it looks like that’s what the real problem is right now. I don’t know how upset with me about earlier you actually are - -”

 

“Not very much, honestly,” Regina admitted, slowly opening her eyes finally. ( _Okay, that was good to know._ )

 

“- - but I have a feeling that right now what’s wrong is that we’ve been making all these changes in our relationship the last– damn, it’s been more than seven months. And to be honest, Regina, I’m scared shitless because I don’t want to lose you or any of what we have, and I still worry about you realizing this is something you don’t really want. I still fear you’ll find someone better, and then you’ll...”

 

Regina placed her hands on Emma’s cheeks, held both sides of her face and made Emma quiet down and look at her. Emma felt like a trapped animal ready for the gate to be lifted so she could run free and escape her emotions one second, and then completely centered the next, Regina’s touch the anchor that she needed. So much raw emotion played across Regina’s face, the same fear of losing everything that Emma felt in her chest in Regina’s expressive eyes.

 

“I love you, Emma Swan,” she said rather seriously. “I _choose_ to love you every day,” she whispered, her eyes growing wet as she said the words Emma remembered saying to her the night she first told Regina that she loved her. “And do you know what? Believe it or not, my dear, I’m scared as well. I’m afraid that one day you’ll leave because you realized I couldn’t be enough for you.”

 

“You’re more than enough,” Emma whispered. The words shook as they came out, but she meant it with everything she was.

 

Regina smiled a little, but there was still so much hesitation in her eyes. “When I was waiting for you earlier, I was...” She sighed and shook her head, looking far away. Regina pulled her hands away and took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself as if embracing herself, protecting herself.

 

Emma wanted to do the same for her, wanted to hold Regina in her arms and make her understand how strongly she felt for her. Instead, she stood awkwardly against the counter, close enough for Regina to reach out for her if she wanted to but far away to give her room to breathe.

 

“You said you wanted to go home,” Regina said after taking a few moments to collect herself

 

“Huh?”

 

“In your text message before you got upset and left, you asked how long we had to stay before we could go home. Before I found you walking back to where your family – _our family_ – was waiting, I was thinking about that. I was thinking about how this is your home and that was what you meant when you said you wanted to go home. I was worried about where you had gone, yes, but I had felt confident that you would return and would want me to be there for you when you were ready to come back.” Regina picked at imaginary lint on her blouse, and Emma watched her with understanding eyes. “When you asked me why I was there, I felt foolish for believing that I could offer you any type of comfort. I was more upset with myself than I was with you. That was why I left.”

 

“Oh,” Emma said slowly, working through Regina’s honest words in her head. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, and I hate that you did because 90% of the time you _are_ the person who I go to when I need comfort, even when I don’t admit it or ask for it. And if I wasn’t so upset with myself – I guess there was a lot of that going around today, huh? – I would have accepted even the smallest amount of comfort from you, Regina, and it would have made a world of difference.”

 

“May I ask why you were upset with yourself?”

 

Emma chewed on her bottom lip, not wanting to admit what had set off her bad mood because it embarrassed her – but she thought about how difficult it probably was for Regina being completely open with her as well, so she wanted to do the same.

 

“I was upset with myself for being jealous of Mary Margaret,” she admitted, not meeting Regina’s eyes.

 

“Snow? What on earth–” Regina stopped, softened her voice. “And why were you jealous of Snow?”

 

Heat rushed to her cheeks and made the back of her neck tingle. She rubbed her hand there and mumbled, “She had your attention, and I wanted it all to myself. I wanted you all to myself.” Regina stayed silent, so Emma’s stomach turned itself into a mess of knots. “Look, I know I shouldn’t–”

 

“You don’t need to be upset with yourself for wanting my attention,” Regina said softly, interrupting Emma. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone’s attention, nor is there anything wrong with wanting someone all for yourself. Jealousy is natural, Emma. Do you think there haven’t been times I’ve been jealous of the people who you spend time with when you’re not with me and I wish you were? Because, let me tell you, I have spent more time than I care to admit being jealous of people who I would have _never_ been jealous of for any other reason before they were taking up time I wished you were spending with me, or with Henry and myself.”

 

Emma’s eyes widened with a little surprise because she could feel how much Regina meant what she was saying to her. She could feel Regina’s pure, unadulterated want for Emma to be near. (And wasn’t that all Emma ever wanted? To be wanted by someone, not because she was some savior or the answer to their problems, just wanted because she was _Emma_... She wanted a place where she belonged, and damn did Regina make her feel like she already had that right there with her.)

 

Emma took a deep breath and inched closer to Regina, looking up into Regina’s eyes, searching that it was okay to move closer. When Regina didn’t budge and only continued to look back at Emma with a glint in her now-hopeful russet eyes, Emma swallowed her doubts and closed the space between them. She took Regina’s hands into her own and held them between their bodies. Regina looked down and Emma brushed her thumbs over hard knuckles.

 

Regina exhaled loudly, the breath shaking but somehow settling everything that was wild and scared and jumpy inside Emma. “I want this,” Emma said with all the confidence she really didn’t feel. She knew Regina needed to hear it, needed to know for sure what Emma wanted. Regina was a woman who hated being vulnerable, Emma knew, and yet she continued trusting Emma enough to be vulnerable and open with her. Emma knew the significance of that. “I want everything we already have, and I want so much more if that’s what you want, too.

 

“I want our movie marathons with our son, and for you to get on me about all the junk food we’re eating even though we both know you’re okay with it and we’ll have salad and run an extra lap around the track. I want to watch you help Henry with his homework. I want to come home to you, Regina, and tell you about my day and hear about yours – even if all I have to tell you about is how the mayor kept sending me emails demanding this and that and all you have to tell me is how much of a pain in the ass the sheriff is.”

 

Regina made a noise in the back of her throat that made Emma smile broadly. It made Regina smile, too.

 

“I want that, your smile - because I’ve never seen anyone smile the way you do. God, you smile and sometimes I can’t help but stare because I think about how much you’ve gone through to be happy. You smile at me and I see welcome home mats and coffee waiting for me in the morning and all the little things that make me think of home and love and–” Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she let go of Regina’s hands and ran her own hands up her arms and stepped closer. “I love you. Even when you infuriate me and I am literally considering slamming a door in your face because nobody gets under my skin the way you do, I love you. And I love you when you’re in a mood, and when you call me Miss Swan like you don’t know it makes me tick – well, when you do it when you’re annoyed with me – and I love you when you’re angry and lashing out.”

 

“Emma,” Regina breathed out as she brought her hands up to Emma’s face and held her cheeks.

 

“I know,” Emma said, because she didn’t need Regina to say anything. It was all in her eyes, all staring at Emma and making her feel like she could drown in all the emotions Regina was feeling. She bit her lip and nodded her head, because sometimes there really wasn’t anything to say, anyway.

 

So for a while they just stood there and breathed as they held each other, Emma’s hands on Regina’s shoulders and Regina’s now on Emma’s neck.

 

They let everything they had said sink in.

 

They let their hearts calm down, beat steadily, remember what it was like when things were just _quiet_ between them and everything was comfortable.

 

And then they moved closer to one another, never having been afraid to enter the other’s personal space and currently knowing it was what the other woman wanted more than anything. Emma slid her hands down Regina’s arms and then wrapped her arms around a small waist. Regina’s lashes fluttered a little and she gave Emma a smile that made her skin warm like only Regina could do.

 

“This won’t be easy,” Regina whispered, like she had to give Emma one last warning as their foreheads touched and her breath blew against Emma’s mouth.

 

(But Emma wouldn’t run, not from Regina, not from this.)

 

Emma smiled and tightened her hold. “I don’t want it to be easy with you.”

 

Regina threaded her fingers through Emma’s hair, and Emma hummed with contentment. “I don’t want it to be a struggle either.”

 

“Those aren’t the only options. I just meant I want it to be natural, you know. I–”

 

“I know what you meant, Emma. I know.”

 

Emma leaned forward and felt Regina doing the same.

 

“May I?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Their lips slowly met for a gentle caress, Regina’s mouth warm against Emma’s as she smiled and pulled the brunette closer to her. It was not a kiss full of fire and hunger, but one that was soft and tender and made Emma’s chest glow with warmth from every light brush of Regina’s lips. They could have that – they would have that, and much more – but that wasn’t what the kiss was about. It was a promise for something that neither had put into words, a promise Emma could taste as she traced Regina’s full lower lip with her tongue and heard her sigh. It was an agreement, a beginning. It was love and together and ours and _hope_ all in one, and it tasted like home.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Emma Swan was still learning what it meant to be a part of a family, and maybe she would never stop learning.

 

She didn’t have to do everything for herself all the time, Mary Margaret would remind her with a smile. And Emma knew she meant well. She knew that her mother still didn’t always get why it was so difficult breaking out of the habit of never depending on others. But she was trying and she made an effort.

 

She still forgot to get the cereal Henry liked when she went grocery shopping – which was his fault, really, because he kept changing what cereal he liked. But he didn’t get upset with her, and she didn’t complain when she later picked up the right brand and he had decided that he was over that one, too.

 

She had to run some things by Regina before doing them, and a lot of times it completely slipped her mind. Like the time she ended up agreeing to a camping trip with her dad and Henry and totally forgot to make sure Regina was cool with it (and totally forgot to tell her dad she _hated_ camping, but that was a whole nother story). Regina hadn’t been too upset with her, because apparently someone in her family had enough sense to ask Regina about it before it was time for the trip and she wasn’t completely in the dark.

 

So, yeah, Emma was still learning and making mistakes and learning some more.

 

But the thing she learned that was most important was that family – _real family –_ didn’t go away just because you messed up, they stuck by you and accepted that you weren’t perfect.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“What do you have in here? Rocks?”

 

Emma turned an odd look at Henry, who was carrying one of her boxes up the stairs. It was the last of her stuff out of her not-a-home-house, making her move-in official and almost complete.

 

“Actually, I do.”

 

Henry wrinkled his brow. “Why?”

 

“Memories.”

 

In her pocket was a new rock to add to her collection, and hopefully the last rock she would be adding.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Hey, Regina, have you–”

 

Emma’s words died on her tongue as she stepped into the master bedroom, her eyes landing on the armchair that Regina was standing beside. She barely noticed the way Regina’s hands quickly moved away from the chair, her attention focusing on what it was the other woman had laid across the back of it instead. It was her baby blanket, the one with her name on it that she had never let go of even when she had bouts of hating her parents as a child. Because she always thought _someone cared enough to make this for me_ and even if it had only been for a short time _someone loved me,_  and she held on to the one connection she had to parents she actually now had in her life after spending years thinking she never would.

 

Emma slowly lifted her eyes and turned to Regina. “You...” An unexpected rush of emotions swept through Emma, and her words caught in her throat.

 

Regina looked as though she was worried about her decision, as though she thought Emma would be upset with her for taking the initiative. But Emma felt nothing even remotely close to that. Regina had already given her a set of keys, had helped her move her things in, had made space for her in the closets and drawers. But this, this felt more special.

 

“I thought it might need a new home, too,” she said lightly. But it wasn’t a light comment, even with her tone. It was full of understanding. It was _this is your home_ and _this is permanent_ and so many things Emma had never had before.

 

“Yeah,” was all Emma could say, her eyes glittering with gratitude.

 

Regina smiled, then. Relief washed over her face. “I’ll go get dinner started,” she said, walking past Emma and squeezing her arm. “Your parents will be arriving in two hours, so you have some time to make sure everything is where you want it.”

 

Emma nodded. “Everything’s good," she said absently, "right where it belongs.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be lovely. Did you enjoy it? Was it terrible? Tell me what you think.
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> ~~Sorry I'm not used to their characters and I'm super nervous about this.~~
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> Either way, thanks for reading!


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